Isaac pulled at his undershirt and wondered what the hell he was doing here. The need for sexual release had been intense so he and Nina Cruze had gone down to the storage area to “inspect” the platoon's vehicles. What ensued had been twenty minutes of intense sexual activity that Isaac now barely remembered. Had it been good? He really didn't know. He only knew that it had been what he needed.

Nina was dozing on her pull out bunk in her number three vehicle. Isaac had moved off the shared bunk and over to his own vehicle so he would be “inspecting” it if someone came by. The fact that he was only wearing his skin tight pressure leggings and a tank top not withstanding. The young officer sat in his command chair and alternated looking at Nina and then out the nearby port hole. The large open doors of his vehicle afforded him a great view of both. He ran his feet over the control panel absently, the feeling of the cold metal on his bare feet helped relax him. Tomorrow the landings would take place and he would be back on a planet he had not seen in seventeen years. He would breathe air he had not breathed in so long he barely remembered what it smelled like. Of course when he had left Tau Ceti all he could smell was burning flesh.

“God this is uncomfortable.” Nina was awake, her dark eyes breaching the distance between them. Looking at her didn't move him emotionally one way or another, though he imagined it should have. Their friendship had blossomed suddenly while on the transport but for Isaac it was still just sex. He didn't want or need more than that. 

“What? The bunk?”

“No sir, the fact that you are over there and I am over here.” She smiled one of her wicked smiles, baring her teeth. Nina was voracious and her tastes bordered on the bizarre, but she made the sex act fun and lighthearted and always very satisfying. 

Isaac chuckled and stood up. “Too much sex makes for low officer morale. You know what the docs say.”

“And too little makes for disrespectful noncoms.” She flexed the toes on her one bare foot as if she were a cat reaching out to kneed him with her claws. 

“I can't imagine you being more disrespectful than you already are, sergeant.”

Nina sighed and dangled her bare foot off the bunk in a vain attempt to grab her lost sock. “Well that is why you made lieutenant. No imagination.”

Isaac frowned but he was growing tired of the banter. Ever time he felt that he wanted to get closer to Nina he shoved the idea away as hard as possible. It was a bad idea at any time, but now he had more pressing matters. Walking over to the porthole he looked down through the transparent glass. Down there was Tau Ceti IV and a large Ch'yadde infestation. They had dug in over the seventeen years he had been away and digging them out was thought to be impossible.

“Gotcha!”

Isaac turned around and saw that Nina had manged to grab the errant sock. She was lifting it to her outstretched hand and grunting a little bit trying to expend as little energy as possible. The position afforded him an excellent view of her body but any desires had been satisfied and he wished that she would dress already.

“Well those big man toes are good for something.” Isaac focused his eyes on her face as he spoke.

“Yep. I am going to start going into a fight barefoot so the Ch'yradde think I am a man.”

Isaac crossed his arms, trying to banish the ghosts from his mind. “They kill males too.” The memory of Mr. Mica laying dead on the ground, his hand over his shattered heart came flooding back. As did the smell of burning flesh. Isaac hated having such intense memories and hated Nina a little for being so casual about.

“But they don't set you on fire, sir.”

No, Isaac thought, they don't. He turned back to the porthole and leaned his head on the glass. Time to change the subject.

“So is your crew ready?”

Nina made a noncommittal sound behind him. It was a sound he heard ten times a day. 

“I know they are new, but if anyone can handle a new crew, its you.”

“Your faith would have been more appreciated had you spoken to me about it first.”

“Business before pleasure.” Isaac turned to look at her and saw a sour expression on her face.

“I am talking business, sir.” Nina emphasized the last word a little too much and Isaac knew he had struck a nerve. “I never understood transferring my old crew in the first place.”

That had been an issue Isaac had not been happy with either. But the orders had come down to transfer the old 'c' model of the M714 to the reserve along with their crews. Vehicle commanders from the 'c' were assigned to new crews in the M714d. It made for the kind of cluster fuck only military commands seemed to enjoy.

“Well doesn't mater. I need them to be in top shape. I have a feeling we'll be running guerrilla again.”

Nina shifted on the bed and grabbed her pressure pants. “Well one mission behind enemy lines does not an expert make.” She pulled them around her waste, covering her sex with determined movements. That, Isaac imagined, was that as far as sex was concerned, but it was just as well. The mood had left him long ago.

“No, of course not. But Troop and Battalion volunteered.”

“After feedback from the platoon commanders, sir?”

Isaac sat down on the floor. “Of course, but I was hardly the only one who thought it was a good idea.”

Nina had continued getting dressed and had donned her fatigue pants. She rapidly began putting on her boots. “Sir... Isaac.” She stood up and looked at him. “I have been a Marty for five years. We're designed to go around the flanks or get up close and support the gunners and grunts. That special forces running around behind the lines bullshit is not what we are trained for. It gets people killed.”

“So sayeth the expert?”

Nina softened her tone. “Being an expert is why you promoted me when you took over the platoon.”

Isaac let the silence linger for a few moments. Nina was right of course, a M-ART unit was not specifically trained to operate without support. The M714 was a better design than the previous models had been though, with larger ammo loads and fuel cells. He could understand her reticence, but he had more business on Tau Ceti than what the generals were planning. Isaac had a date with as many dead Ch'yradde as he could fit under his vehicle's wheels. His platoon knew about his history on the planet, but they didn't know about the sense of destiny that had been with him for seventeen years. They also did not suffer the nightmares.

Isaac stood up. He thought about letting Nina know his secret, but as close as they two were becoming despite his efforts to avoid it, her loyalty to the platoon was greater than her loyalty to him. Of she knew he had ulterior motives it would not be long before his ass was standing in from of the Troop CO. So instead of opening up he went over to his clothes and began to get dressed.

“I have a briefing in two hours. I better shower so I don't give Larson a reason to lose his shit.”

“Captain Larson loves losing his shit. He thinks he's some kind of master sergeant trapped in an officer's body.”

Isaac could feel the good vibes returning to the conversation and he was glad. Always the frustration threatened to bubble over and he spent a great deal of energy avoiding fights with people. Isaac didn't know what he might do or say if he ever let go. He never really wanted to find out.

Once he was dressed Isaac locked down his vehicle while Nina did the same for hers. All four vehicles in his platoon had been given a new coat of paint and the young officer could still smell the faint aroma the process left behind. A lot of officers talked about it being the 'death' smell. The last thing maintenance did to your rig was paint it the proper camouflage and that meant a battle was in the offing. For 3rd Platoon, C Troop, 11th Mobile Artillery Battalion, that battle was going to begin tomorrow.

“You ready. sir?” Nina was beside him now, all edge and animosity gone from her voice, but then so was all the passion. Now she was just a sergeant talking to her LT. 'So much the better', Isaac thought.

Isaac nodded and lead off. They exited the storage area and showed their ID to the Marine on duty. He looked and nodded and went back to standing his watch without any comment or facial expression. Officer and subordinate walked in silence to the port side elevator and took it up three levels. The Dalton Birch was an old transport, but still in service because of losses earlier in the year. The space battle that had allowed the fleet to gain orbit had been intense if the scuttlebutt could be believed. Isaac had stayed at his “station” and read passages from The Art of War. Others had nervously waited for some report or the tell tale explosion of a hit on the Birch, but none had come. Isaac had somehow known there would be no issue. He had faith that God or the Universe had meant for him to come back here and finish the unfinished business from all those years ago.

“What?” Isaac realized Nina was speaking to him.

“I said, are you staying on the elevator, sir?” Her lips were curled in a smile and her eyes shifted to the left. Isaac looked at the tall sandy haired officer waiting to get on the elevator. The man seemed both annoyed and amused in the way only a senior officer could be. Isaac saluted the colonel, who gave a short salute back and stood aside as Isaac left the lift.

The heat in his face was mercifully hidden by his dark skin. Isaac walked in silence, though he avoided losing himself in woolgathering again until they reached the barracks section. Nina lightly touched the white stencil that said OFFICERS beside a sturdy manual door.

“This is your stop, lieutenant.”

Isaac smiled. “Indeed it is sergeant. Carry on.”

Once inside he walked down three doors to wear the C Troop officers were berthed. They were in this section with two armored troop platoons and a Marine recon troop. That way a single lucky shot would not wipe out an entire troop or battalion's officers. Isaac turned into his room and saw only Captain Larson present.

“Captain.” Isaac went right to his bunk and began grabbing his shower gear.

Larson rubbed a massive hand over his freshly shaven face and looked up from where he was reading. “Mr. Thomas.” He paged through the electronic message a little more before looking up once again. “Are the vehicles ready?”

Isaac started for a moment, not knowing what Larson was talking about and then he remembered. “Oh yes sir, all ready.”

“The chassis is properly lubed?”

For all his serious attitudes and penchant for verbal explosions, Isaac knew Larson had a quircky sense of humor. Lubing the chassis was a vulgar term for sex, but no one above the rank of lieutenant was supposed to use it. Did he know?

“Yes sir, slick and gleaming.” Isaac surprised himself by using the proper vulgar reply. He wasn't entirely sure that he and Cruz weren't in for a world of hurt.

“Good. Good.” Larson went back to his message. The man might have smiled, but it was wistful and lasted only a moment. Suddenly he was on his feet, shutting down his message pad and grabbing his blouse. “Briefing has been pushed back half an hour. No need to rush.” Larson nodded at Isaac and them left the berth.

It was really the first time Isaac had seen Larson so thoughtful, outside of talking about losses. He decided he rather would have been chewed out. Sitting on his bunk, Isaac wondered why he briefing was pushed back and what had gotten his CO so somber. At least for a little while all thoughts of destiny and vengeance left his head.

Next Chapter: Chapter Three